


don't wake me (i'm not dreaming)

by loonyBibliophile



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Ambiguous Relationship, Dissociation/depersonalization/derealization, Exploring Zelda's mental state, F/M, He both signs and speaks in this fic, Mentions of Impa and Paya, Post-Calamity, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 22:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30146265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loonyBibliophile/pseuds/loonyBibliophile
Summary: Everything is too much. The familiar fabric of her uniform on her skin is too much. The weight of her hair hanging loose around her shoulders is too much. The gentle breeze against her skin is too much. Every sight, every sound, every sensation, every drop of sweat that made its way down her brow, every ache and twitch of her muscles, it was all too much.For one hundred years, Princess Zelda of Hyrule was a beam of light, an explosion of divine energy, a mystical force. Then, suddenly, she is flesh and blood and bone once more, and she is woefully unprepared to adjust to corporeality.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 51





	don't wake me (i'm not dreaming)

**Author's Note:**

> as far as i can tell there's no canon explanation for 'where' zelda was for those 100 years but i certainly didn't see her physical body in the sanctum so i wanted to write something exploring the immediate aftereffects of 100 years of disembodiment

Everything is too much. The familiar fabric of her uniform on her skin is too much. The weight of her hair hanging loose around her shoulders is too much. The gentle breeze against her skin is too much. Every sight, every sound, every sensation, every drop of sweat that made its way down her brow, every ache and twitch of her muscles, it was all too much. 

For one hundred years, Princess Zelda of Hyrule was a beam of light, an explosion of divine energy, a mystical force. Then, suddenly, she is flesh and blood and bone once more, and she is woefully unprepared to adjust to corporeality. 

She didn’t notice, at first. Things were so hectic and exciting and distracting, how could Zelda have time to notice how bizarre it was to have a body again after a century when she was busy being ecstatic Link was here and alive and had finished the task they set out to all those decades ago? How could she notice the strain of physical sensations on her exhausted psyche when she was being told that Impa was still alive and was just a short ride away in Kakariko Village? How could any of the last one hundred years of misery and nonexistence matter at all when, after all this time, all of Hyrule was spread out before her, changed, but still standing?

But now? Now, it was the next day, and Zelda had attempted her first night of sleep in a century, been woefully unsuccessful, and after a night of tossing and turning and pointedly ignoring the concerned stares Link threw her way every time she rose from the spare bed at Impa’s, everything was crashing down all at once, and her thoughts are grinding to a screeching halt. 

Staring blankly at the window, Zelda flexed her fists as she sat on the bed, feeling the leather of her gloves shift and creak around her hands. Logically, she knows the sheets on the bed are quite soft, but right now they feel like sandpaper against Zelda’s skin. The wind shivering past the window sounds like a cannon blast, like a hissing fuse, like the slithering ooze of Calamity Ganon’s malice. 

Two gentle knocks on the doorframe, followed by a soft clearing of a throat, wrench Zelda from her stupor. She blinks, her green eyes looking lost, and fights to focus on the intruder. Link stands in the doorway, his brow furrowed intently. 

“What?” Zelda asks, her voice coming across harsher than she means it to, leading her to frown. “What is it?” she tries again, her voice softer this time. Link watches her for a moment, assessing how much attention she’s paying, and then lifts his hands to sign.

_“You should come downstairs and eat. You already missed breakfast.”_

“Missed… breakfast? Is it lunch already?” Zelda frowned again, turning to look at the sun’s position in the sky. “I didn’t realize it had been so long since Paya awakened us this morning.”

 _“I know.”_ Link paused, his hands hovering midair _“Are you…. alright?”_

“I’ll be fine.” she said tersely, offering him a tight smile. Link shifted from one foot to another, watching her carefully. He pursed his lips for a moment, then nodded. Zelda was well versed in his complicated expressions after a lifetime of acquaintanceship, and knows this one likely means he doesn’t believe her, but has elected to drop it for the time being. 

_“I made fruitcake.”_ he signs, and offers her a soft and reassuring smile before running back downstairs. 

Zelda’s stomach growls, which tells her Link is right, and she should go downstairs where the others are and have lunch, but no matter how hard she thinks about it, she cannot feel hungry. While every sensation outside her skin feels fine tuned to torment her, her internal sensations seem to have vanished entirely. Hours had past, and she hadn’t even noticed. Last night, sleep evaded her, even after a century of constant consciousness. Now, her stomach has been empty for hours, but she feels none of the gnawing emptiness she once associated with hunger. 

Before Zelda can become lost in her thoughts again, she hears a soft thump, and looks down to see that there’s an apple rolling across the floor. She stands, picks it up, and walks to the doorway leading to the staircase. At the foot of the stairs stands Link, who seemingly lobbed the apple up the stairs to get Zelda’s attention. He waves, and turns away, and Zelda shakes her head, smiling ever so slightly, and descends the stairs. 

Lunch is a delicious and spicy beef stew with crusty bread and fresh goat butter. Link, apparently, had spent his time between shrines and fighting off hordes of monsters becoming an even better cook than he’d been before. Despite the cognitive dissonance of Impa being an elderly woman, the scene feels deeply, painfully familiar to Zelda. Just an afternoon meal in Kakariko, discussing the state of Hyrule with Impa as Link nodded and grunted, like the three of them must have done dozens of times before. She flexes her fists again, letting herself feel the cool leather, and the gentle pressure of the bronze studs against her knuckles. Link watches her, silently, as he shoves a hunk of bread the size of one of his fists into his mouth. Despite herself, she giggles quietly, but her face is too close to her spoon, so the exhalation from her laughter sprays Link’s face with soup, and his jaw falls open in shock, still full of bread. In turn, this causes Zelda to snort in a manner her father would have deemed violently unladylike, and Link beams at Zelda while she sets her soup down with shaking hands, laughing hysterically. 

Link continues to watch her, looking confused by her reaction, but pleased to see her expressing a positive emotion. Zelda looks over at him, her laughter fading, and turns to look at Impa as well, and spends several minutes just watching them both in silence. Eventually, she turns to the new face at the table, Paya, and as if the past several minutes didn’t happen, smiles softly at her. 

“Tell me about yourself, Paya.” she says quietly, and then picks up her bowl to finish eating while Paya quietly stutters her way through her life story, occasionally aided silently by Link or Impa when she gets especially flustered. Zelda watches a flush bloom in Paya’s cheeks when Link lays a hand on her shoulder, and for a moment Zelda sees the ghostly image of a red Zora princess in Paya’s place. Slowly, the world fades away, and Zelda feels adrift in the mists of the Lost Forest, Paya’s voice fading into nothing. 

Suddenly, Zelda feels a warm, heavy hand on her shoulder, and startles from her haze. To her surprise, Impa and Paya have both left, and the light has changed enough that Zelda knows she was staring off into nothing for at least a half an hour, maybe more. 

“Sorry.” she said immediately. Link shook his head, squeezing her shoulder gently before removing his hand. Link stands, gesturing to the door with his head as he signs. 

_“Go for a walk?”_

Zelda nods, pulling herself to her feet, and following silently after Link as he starts up a hill, along a road leading out of the village. This, too, feels familiar. The grass, the warm afternoon sun, walking alongside the same blonde boy she’d been walking alongside for most of her life. 

“Isn’t one of fabled great fairy fountains meant to be outside Kakariko?” Zelda mused quietly, looking at the various kinds of foliage along the side of the road as they walked. Link doesn’t answer, simply reaches his hand backwards slightly, extending it for her to take. She blinks, considering the offer, and accepts, wrapping her fingers around his own. His palm is warm, and rough with scars and calluses, but feels strangely more soothing than the smooth linen of Impa’s spare bedclothes did. 

Slowly, while the sun inches down towards the horizon, Link leads Zelda to a small forest, and as they enter the trees, Zelda can practically feel the magic and divine energy in the air. A few tiny fairies flit through the air, and song birds flit through the trees, and she lets Link lead her to an enormous blossom filled with glittering spring water, and then off to the side, almost behind the flower, and he gestures at the ground. When she looks down, Zelda gasps. Scattered in a few areas near the pond are perfect, delicate Silent Princess blossoms. Link settles into the grass, careful to avoid smashing any flowers, and pats the ground beside him, then waits for Zelda to delicately settle in beside him. 

_“There are more,”_ he signs, then gestures to the flowers _“All over Hyrule. We can go see them all.”_

“You remember where they all were?” she asks, her voice quiet and curious as she gently fingers the petals of one of the blooms. 

_“I took pictures,”_ he replied _“for you. I remember how much you loved them”_

Link handed her the Sheikah slate after wrestling it from his hip pocket, tapping the screen to bring up the image gallery. Zelda flips through them slowly, taking in each depiction of her favored blue and white flowers. One in particular stopped her in her tracks, and she let out a quiet noise of surprise. In the picture, there was a cluster of Silent Princess blossoms on the shore of a beautifully blue pond. There was an enormous tree heavy with pink blossoms, which also covered the ground like a dusting of fresh snow. While Zelda marvelled, Link cleared his throat. She glanced over, expecting him to begin signing something about the picture, but was surprised when he began speaking softly. 

“That’s Satori Mountain’s peak.” his voice is quiet, and a little hoarse. Zelda wonders how long it’s been since he’s spoken. She moves without thinking, twisting to the side to gently lay her fingertips at the base of Link’s throat. He blinked, clearly startled, and she nearly pulled away until he barely, imperceptibly, shook his head, as if to say no, it’s okay, I was just surprised. 

“Don’t worry,” he says softly “I have spoken since I woke up.”

“I admit it’s nice to hear your voice.” Zelda said quietly, her voice beginning to waver ever so slightly. Before she could even really process what was happening,she was sobbing openly, collapsing against Link’s shoulder. Tentatively, Link adjusts Zelda to a more comfortable position and puts an arm around her shoulders. When she doesn’t jump or push him away, he rubs her shoulder as she shakes. 

“Everything is so much.” her voice is low and desperate “I was… nothing, for one hundred years. I was thoughts, and light, and magic. And now it’s all so much.”

“It was loud for me too when I woke up.” Link offered after a moment of silence. “Can I help? Or… do you… want help?” he furrows his brow as he speaks, looking as if he’s concerned he’s overstepping. Zelda feels a twinge of guilt for how harshly she judged him once upon a time. 

“You are the only thing that feels okay.” Zelda answers, squirming slightly, uncomfortable with her own honest vulnerability. “I think because you are perhaps the only person who could begin to understand.”

“I was afraid to sleep, the first night after I woke.” Link says carefully, his fingers fidgeting with the stitching on her blouse “Afraid I might wake the next morning and find another hundred years had passed.”

“I’m afraid I’ve forgotten how to sleep.” Zelda murmurs, watching Link’s hand on her shoulder from the corner of her eye. “Everything outside is so loud, but inside everything feels hollow, like an old log in the forest.”

“Maybe a frog will move in.” Link said, looking at her in that intentionally blank way he always did after he made a joke. She could see it now, but when they’d been younger, she’d simply thought he had no sense of humor. Zelda smiles at him, a quiet, lonely expression, and leans forward with a slight exhale, resting her forehead against Link’s collar. 

“Perhaps the frog will know what to do.” 

“We will figure it out.” Link replies, and his voice is stronger and more confident than Zelda thinks she has ever heard it. 

Yes, we, she reminds herself, letting her eyes drift shut as she leaves her head against Link’s chest, feeling the slight stutter of his heartbeat beneath her forehead. Between the two of them, and Impa, and Riju, and all the others, they would certainly be able to put Hyrule back together.

**Author's Note:**

> okay there it was! my first ever zelda fic. i've only played botw and parts of age of calamity so please go easy on my lore knowledge and no, i don't know if my vague descriptions of the inside of impa's house make sense


End file.
